A Mother's Love
by SecretAnimosity
Summary: Based on a dream I had. What if Narcissa had only turned to Severus Snape when her first attempt had failed? What if this first attempt had been the driving force that led her to lie to the Dark Lord himself in the forest? ONE SHOT NM/LV mild language and a slight lemon


_The large ornate in the foyer of Malfoy Manor reflected back a beautiful Narcissa Malfoy. Her robes were made of the finest material and cut to fit her slender body and embroidered with elegant patterns around the hem. Almost obsessively Narcissa tugged the tight corset like piece down and adjusted her bust, slimming her already tiny waist and enhancing her breasts. Her hands shook as she did so; it was the only outward sign of the turmoil that was raging just beneath the cool exterior that she had long since perfected._

"_Protege me deam," Narcissa whispered quietly as she stared into her own grey eyes. "Quod feceris me a malitia tueri conantur mi. Puer autem opus est pro me valere. Protege me deam." The whispered protection plea only served to crack her mask slightly and her eyes began to sting._

_Narcissa tore her eyes away from her reflection, unable to bear the judgment flashing in her own eyes. "Please let Lucius never find out about this," she continued quietly in English as she stared at the large manor she called her home. It felt more like a morgue. The only beings left here were either dead or dying, herself included. _

"_Mother?" Narcissa's eyes squeezed shut and she pulled up her mask even tighter before turning to face her son._

"_Dragon," Draco was in her arms before she could fully register the fact and Narcissa nearly broke as his breaths came in uneven and left in staccato beats. "Don't do this?" His voice was strangled and Narcissa pulled her beloved son closer._

"_You are my son Dragon," Narcissa whispered fiercely, praying to Arae that she would return. If the fates were merciful she would return with good news. Draco pulled back and for the second time that day the moisture in his eyes was dangerously close to spilling. It broke Narcissa's heart to see her dragon in so much pain; he was her world, her everything. With that thought she straightened her posture and her chin rose, she needed to be strong for him. "I will see you upon your return. Please tell Helen that I am sorry I couldn't make tea and wish Blaise good wishes on my behalf. I hope he does well in his apparition exam."_

_Her dragon's chin twitched and he nodded stiffly before exiting the manor quickly. Narcissa knew this was hard on him but she needed Draco to be strong to protect him. With one last glance at the mirror to her right, Narcissa began the trek deep into the heart of the manor, to the one office she now despised, her heels clacking loudly on the marble floors. There was no need to hide her presence now; they were the only two people within the manor. The rest of the Death Eaters were out on a raid in Kent and knowing her sister, they would not be back for hours._

_Narcissa had heard a muggle saying once from a mudblood she had gone to school with and it drifted through her mind as she neared the door. 'The door to hell was opened with good intentions.' Or some such variation. At the time she had thought it utter rubbish, but now…now as she stared at the door to hell she was positive whoever had said that had been in a similar position. With one quick, deep breath Narcissa nocked gently and awaited the smooth, deep baritone of the devil himself. A chill ran down her spine when the Dark Lord did call out and with her head bowed, Narcissa entered and dropped into a deep curtsy in the middle of the room. His magic seemed to saturate the room and slowly waft around her like the gentlest of breezes against her exposed flesh._

_She felt him move, her whole body hyper aware of his position, until he was standing behind her. "You may rise," the Dark Lord whispered over her shoulder and in her ear, causing goose bumps to break out where his hot breath touched. "I expected you come Narcissa," the Dark Lord circled around her as if she were prey. _

"_My Lord?" Narcissa's grey eyes found the hideous serpentine face, avoiding his bloody eyes, and held back the urge to run out of the room._

"_The mother must protect her young Narcissa; it is one of the few things you may always count on." Narcissa resisted a cringe at his cruel and mocking tone and stared impassively back at the Dark Lord as he neared her again. Only this time the Dark Lord came closer than before and Narcissa held herself still as a statue as he raised a single bony finger and traced a figure of some sort on her shoulder. "What would you be willing to sacrifice to save your son?" The mocking tone had faded some and Narcissa felt some of the color drain out of her face as she recognized a new emotion take its place. Men, no matter how powerful, wretched, or seemingly inhuman, would always let another organ rule their brain. 'It was another rule you could always count on.' Narcissa thought snidely._

"_Anything my Lord," Narcissa doomed herself with not a single waver in her voice. Her grey eyes now staring at the large snake draped across the small sofa to the right of the fire place. It was staring at her with its enormous yellow eyes, taunting her wordlessly. Whore. You are a whore. It said and Narcissa silently agreed. But she would walk through the pits of hell and would willingly damn herself to save her son._

_Those cruel yellow eyes continued to abuse her as those long bony fingers undid the laces to her corset. _

_As those hands that had murdered thousands touched her, Narcissa couldn't help but shiver, her stomach rolling as her body and mind warred with itself. The Dark Lord made sure that Narcissa was writhing on the ancient rug in front of the fire. He made sure to leave her panting and willing, torturing her sanity as he took his fill. Rough and violent, slow and prolonged, it all drove Narcissa's body into the pits of sinfully delicious pleasure as her mind screamed and clawed ferociously at her sanity. And those yellow eyes continued to condemn her._

_Narcissa came in a primal cry and tightened around the Dark Lord, feeling him spill into her with a cry of his own. Narcissa's mask wavered as he pulled out of her and stood, clothing himself with a single wave of his wand. "My Lord?" Narcissa broke the deafening silence when she could take it no more. She held her breath, waiting, pleading with Arae and the fates to grant her family mercy._

"_He will kill Dumbledore," Narcissa's hope was burned to ash, her world seemed to crumble around her, and murderous rage exploded inside of her. She could not hold back her murderous glare directed to the back of his head nor could she stop the tears that fell. Without a word Narcissa banished her clothing and summoned a simple robe that knotted around the waist before she left the office. Silent cries of anguish ripped through Narcissa as she fell against the wall, feeling dirty and helpless. Her baby, her Draco, her dragon…Narcissa's tears came with a vengeance and she beat the marble floor with silent screams. Was there no mercy? After some time the rest of her energy died off and Narcissa laid there on the floor, her cheek against the cool marble, staring off at the floor molding. Her Dragon, she couldn't protect him. She was helpless. She was a whore. She was an adulteress._

_After what seemed like hours Draco's voice drifted to her ears, he was still far off, but it evoked a primal rage and gave Narcissa the energy to pick herself up off the floor. As she made her way down the opposite hall, each step fueled her animosity. This was not over. A vase exploded as she passed and Narcissa paid it no mind. She would not give up so easily. She was a Slytherin. She was a Black. She was a Malfoy. She would not be defeated like this. _

_ONE YEAR LATER_

_"You," Narcissa watched the Dark Lord point a long, skeletal like finger at her. There was a small explosion and Narcissa's vision swam while mild pain coursed through her body, she managed to stay upright and stifle a groan but her body swayed left and right. "Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead." _

_Narcissa's mind warred within itself, the rage and hatred fighting the natural healer instincts, but her face stayed devoid of all emotion. As she slowly walked across the clearing Narcissa fought back tears, her secret hope was lying unmoving on the forest floor. It took everything she had to bite back the sob as her small hands brushed Harry Potter's warm skin as she went to open one eye. Narcissa's world seemed to melt down around her as she found no response. _

_'You've done it once you little shit,' Narcissa mentally cursed, angry and devastated, 'don't you dare be dead. I need you...Draco needs you.' _

_Her hands shakily made their way down and into the front of his shirt as Narcissa prepared herself to find no heartbeat. She was thoroughly shocked to find the strong, steady beat pulsing under her fingertips. Narcissa's jaw almost dropped open and she wanted to scream in happiness, he was alive! Harry Potter, the one last chance she had at saving her son was alive! Enforcing every acting and Occlumency skill Narcissa possessed she forced her face to stay blank. Narcissa bent lower, her face only inches from Potter's and her hair shielding them both from view, and spoke in barely a whisper. "Is Draco still alive? Is he in the castle?" _

_Never in all her life, had Narcissa felt this much fear or felt her heart beat so fast. It was thrumming so hard that it seemed to be one long vibration in her chest. "Yes," Potter breathed back. Unconsciously her hand curled into a fist and her nails dug into his skin. A breath she hadn't realized she had been holding rushed out of her and a tear made its way down her cheek. Her baby had survived! Her dragon was alive and now it was up to her to keep it that way. _

_Narcissa removed her hand and sat back up, triumphantly smirking and looking right to the Dark Lord. "He is dead!" She lied smoothly, reveling in the deceit as the crowd of Snatchers and Death Eaters cheered. They shot red and silver sparks into the night sky and stamped their feet. Narcissa celebrated as well; celebrated her revenge and her deceit. Her mother had been right; revenge was a dish best served cold. And right now, it was sweet as sugar on her tongue. _


End file.
